


The Hangover

by WritingsOfAHobbit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingsOfAHobbit/pseuds/WritingsOfAHobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One beer too many and a twisting stomach have a curious cure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hangover

Your head is pounding as you make your way back to your room. The beat of the music echoes down the corridor after you, but you leave the drink and the food behind. It’s not often you attend the feasts so you treated yourself and consumed a little too much alcohol. As you stumble you realise you may have drunk far too much.

Regardless of your alcohol consumption you make it back to your room in one piece. Once there you collapse on the bed, still fully dressed. You’re almost suffocating in the pillows but you can’t find the energy to move. You don’t think you’ll be able to manage rolling over and not falling off the bed anyway.

It’s only a few minutes until you hear the bedroom door open and footsteps unsteadily approach you. Even though the footsteps are uneven you know who they belong to, so you don’t bother to get up and attack the intruder.

Large hands grip your ankles, working your boots free from your feet. Your socks follow soon after, leaving you with cold feet. The hands grip your waist, rolling you over onto your back and undoing your belt. You manage to crack an eye open as your trousers are pulled down. “Feel like a child.” You mumble, watching as Bofur starts to remove you of your shirt.

“Ye act like a child.” He chuckles, dropping a kiss on the tip of your nose. “Drink this.” He hands you a glass of water, kicking your clothes away and getting ready for bed.

“I don’t want to.” You moan, but you drink the water anyway. You fall back onto the mattress once you’ve set the glass down, already half asleep.

Bofur laughs at you, rolling you down the bed as he slides under the covers. “Ye can either sleep under the sheets or on top of them like a dog. I won’t be held responsible when ye’re cold.”

You huff, crawling up the bed and landing on the exposed mattress. Bofur drapes the sheets over you back, kissing your neck.

“Ye’re going to have a mighty headache tomorrow.”

Needless to say, Bofur is right. When you wake up the following morning it feels like someone’s hit you over the head with one of the forging hammers. Every little movement feels like someone’s driving the stone head between your eyes. The faint candle light isn’t helping either.

Bofur who, surprisingly, is already up and about sets one of the offending objects on the bedside table, the light shining right in your eyes. “Damn it, Bofur.” You groan. You manage to wriggle one of your arms out from under your body without jarring your head to much. You grab the nearest pillow, pressing it over your eyes.

“Said ye’d have a headache.”

You grunt at him, not bothering to grace him with an actual reply.

“C’mon, lass, roll over. I have summin’ for ye’r headache.”

You take a few seconds too long to reply and Bofur grabs your hips, slowly rolling you over. You make a disgruntled sound which he silences with a kiss, hands flexing on your hips. You hum in content, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “Feelin’ any better?” he asks when he breaks the kiss.

“Might need another to make sure.” You smirk lazily up at him, pleased when he doesn’t protest. He shifts on the bed so that he’s lying on top of you, his legs between your own. Slowly, pausing to let you push him away, his hands slip under your shirt and snake their way upwards. He breaks the kiss to pull your shirt over your head.

Bofur smiles down at you, propping himself up on his hands to get a better look at your exposed torso. “See something you like?” you ask cheekily, wriggling under his look.

“S’pose so.” Bofur returns your smirk, ducking his head to kiss the skin under your breasts. He ghosts over one mound of warm flesh, blowing cool air onto a rapidly-hardening nipple. He looks up at you, briefly making eye contact before enveloping the taut peak in his mouth. Your breathing hitches as he lightly flicks his tongue over it, teasing it lightly with practised actions.

He lids a hand to your other breast, flicking and rolling your other nipple into an aching peak. “Bofur.” Your breathe, hands moving to tangle in his hair. He nips lightly at the bud in his mouth, sending heat shooting down to the base of your spine. Your back arches and your hands keep his head in place, legs wrapping around his thighs.

“Ye’re beautiful.” He murmurs against your skin, lifting his head to look at you.

You smile at him before taking a breath, quickly shifting your position so that he’s lying on the bed and you’re kneeling between his legs. You allow your pounding head to settle before you wriggle back, pushing his trousers down his legs and releasing him from his underwear. He’s hot, heavy and already hard as you take him in your hands, massaging him gently.

You take him into your mouth, swallowing him only halfway in order to get the feel for him. It’s not the first time you’ve pleasured him, but it has been a while. Your right hand grips the base of him, your left holding his hip. You maintain eye contact with Bofur as you take him in as far as possible, hand pumping the part you can’t reach.

Bofur’s hot in your mouth, the thick vein on the underside of him already throbbing as you run your tongue along it. You suck hard and his back arches, head falling back against the mattress.

You release him so that it’s just his tip in your mouth, bobbing your head as your tongue flicks at him. “Lass…” he groans, bucking his hips upwards.

You tighten your grip on him as he jars your head, making the world swim for a second. You release him, pressing kisses along the underside of his length and tongue tracing the prominent vein.

Bofur’s hands bury themselves in your hair, pulling you up to meet his mouth. He kisses you deeply as he rolls you over onto your back, moving all remaining articles of clothing.

He trails hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck and along the tops of your breasts before licking down the valley between them. He shifts, rubbing his right thigh against the apex of your legs before taking an aching peak of your breast into his mouth. He sucks gently, tongue flipping over the bud. A low groan leaves you, head falling back on the mattress. “Bofur…” you say lowly.

You feel him smile against you before he starts to kiss down your body, beard and moustache scratching at you as he goes. He pauses when he reaches the band of your pants, teeth grazing against the skin of your hip. You moan his name again as he ghosts over you, warm breath heightening your desire, before he starts to kiss your thighs. “Lift.” He says, taking your underwear in his hands and tugging them down. You lift your hips up, allowing the fabric to slide down your body.

Bofur parts your legs with his hands, draping them over his shoulders as he lowers himself to the bed. He presses a kiss to the hood of your clit, chuckling at the low whine you let out in response.

A broken moan leaves you as he opens his mouth, tongue pushing into your entrance and teeth grazing lightly against your bundle of nerves. His tongue pushes itself inside of you four times, each time reaching a little further inside you. Your breath hitches as he shifts his head, running his tongue up your slit to flick at your clit. Your back arches, pushing you further into his mouth. Bofur responds by licking you again with more pressure.

Your legs shudder, bending automatically so that they’re wrapped around his neck and anchoring him in place. “Don’t stop.” You moan as one of his fingers push itself between your folds, the familiar burn of your entrance stretching only heightening the sensations. “Mahal, Bofur, please don’t stop.” His finger crooks, searching out your sensitive spot. You arch when he finds it and he adds a second fingers, the two working in opposite motions and driving you insane. “Bofur…” Your hips buck against him but he keeps himself pressed flush against you.

Bofur sucks on your clit and works his fingers harder as your breathing becomes more laboured. You tangle your hands in his hair, terrified he’ll stop before you can climax. He flicks your clit once more, stars exploding behind your closed lids as your orgasm washes over you. Your writhe on the bed as pleasure fills you. Bofur continues to fuck you with his fingers and flick at your clit until you’ve come down from your high.

He untangles himself from between your legs, your hands still in his hair. You pull him up to meet him, lips pressing hard against yours. His usual taste is mixed with the tang of your own and you growl against him. “I need ye.” he growls against your lips. “I need to be inside of ye.”

You whimper in reply, hooking one leg around his thigh and drawing him close to you. Bofur kisses you once more before slowly sheathing himself, taking a few seconds to allow you to adjust. He takes a deep breath before rotating his hips, making you groan against his mouth.

His body is moulded perfectly to yours, every thrust of his rubbing against that spot inside of you which has you seeing stars. “Bofur….” You moan lowly. He breaks the kiss to trail scorching kisses down your throat, moustache scratching you roughly.

You can feel him start to throb inside of you, his breathing and rhythm faltering as he starts to near his edge.  Your own pleasure is building, heat pooling in your stomach as your breathing becomes laboured.

Bofur kisses you again, putting pressure on your lips as one of his hands works down between your bodies.

You gasp and buck your hips against his when his thumb finds your clit, pressing hard against it. “Let go for me, lass.” He lays huskily in your ear. “Let go.”

Bofur bucks his hips, dragging against the spot inside of you which sends you reeling over the edge. Warmth rushes over you as your muscles contract and stars explode behind your closed lids. You feel your walls clenching around him, milking him as his own release floods through him. 


End file.
